called to her eagerly--

"Miss Mollie! One moment! I expect I shall be packed off, bag and
baggage, as soon as I have announced my decision; but Mr Farrell does
not make his appearance until lunch-time, so we have a whole morning
left still. Will you come for a last ride with me after breakfast?"

"Yes," said Mollie simply.

Her heart beat high with pleasure, because Jack had assented so readily
to her request, because he had wished to spend his last hours in her
society. For the moment she forgot the blank which would follow his
departure, and was wholly, unreservedly happy. It was the old,
sparkling, girlish face which was turned upon him--the vision had
disappeared.

The next day neither Ruth nor Victor offered to join the riding-party,
though they had not any settled plans for the forenoon. Mollie had told
her sister of Jack's invitation of the evening before, and Ruth was too
proud to make a third unless she were specially asked to do so. She
strolled into the grounds to interview the gardener about sending in an
extra supply of plants and flowers to beautify the house for the
expected callers, while Victor shut himself in the library to write
letters.

Jack looked well on horseback, as tall, upright men always do, and
Mollie glanced at him admiringly, and thought regretfully of her new
habit, which was even now in the tailor's hands. It did seem hard that
she should have to wear a shabby, ill-fitting coat while he was here,
and that the new one should come home almost as soon as he had departed.
Her sigh of self-commiseration brought his eyes upon her, and he sighed
in echo as he cried--

"Last times are melancholy occasions! I hate them, even when the
experience has not been altogether pleasant. There is a sadness about
turning over the leaf and ending another chapter of life. This chapter
has been a very short one, but uncommonly jolly. Don't think that I
haven't appreciated it, because I am going away. I have enjoyed every
hour of this week, and when I am back on the treadmill I shall think
longingly of you all many times over. I hope we may often meet again."

"It is not very likely, is it? You will go your way, and we will go
ours. Ruth and I have never been in London, nor you in Liverpool. We
may all live until we are old and bald, and never meet again," said
Mollie dismally; whereupon Jack looked at the shining plaits which were
coiled at the back of her head, and laughed reassuring